A sense of resolve settles over you and you clutch the acorn to your chest, drawing yourself up defensively. You allow yourself a deep breath, then take off at a run, as fast as you can go, down the newly opened path at the edge of the maze. This totem is important; you can feel it in the warmth that radiates from its golden surface.
You have to protect it.
Something shadowy and spindly crashes into the ground near where your feet had just been and rakes furrows through the weeds and the dirt. Something else swoops overhead and snatches at your shoulders, but it's almost insubstantial, and its yawning grasp slides away from you like water rolling off a duck's back. You run faster, diving headlong into the overgrowth of the forest. The air grows heavier, and the acorn in your hand grows warmer.
You notice only after a few more of your own pounding footfalls that the glowing spots of light flickering around you aren't fireflies. It's magic, you realize, and it thickens as you run; its glowing tendrils snake along the path you've chosen and push aside the reeds and underbrush to clear your way. The shadows that were chasing you before seem to give up after a time. The darkness around you thins, and slowly lifts, and you finally stop, gasping for breath.
Ahead of you on the path, a magnificent golden spirit towers over the saplings of the forest. It watches you, and you feel transfixed by its gaze.
A silence broken only by cricketsong stretches for a long moment before the spirit moves, and as it does, you feel the tension in your shoulders ease away, for it looks on you approvingly as it draws closer. Its body is long and slinky, with narrow paws, and its tail ends in a drawn-out tufted shape. It reminds you of something like a mink or marten. You wonder if it has a name.
The spirit pauses close enough to you that you could reach out and touch it if you had the mind to. You can feel its approval even more strongly now, almost as if it had a voice, murmuring in your ear, [Well done.] It lowers its nose, and touches the back of your hand, and with only a brief hesitation, you offer the acorn.
A glow envelops the totem, and when it clears, a golden pendant with a strange symbol rests in your palm instead. You look up just in time to see the spirit turn away with the acorn tucked safely between its teeth.
You could almost swear you hear the same voice again. [You will always be welcome, here in the forest.]
You look at your amulet's symbol again. You're not sure how, but it reminds you of the forest. It reminds you of yourself. It reminds you of warmth, and of safety.
You slip the pendant over your head and turn to go, glancing once behind you, but the golden spirit has faded into the wind. You feel entirely at peace, and treading back the way you came invites no shadows clawing at your steps.
You wonder what exactly it is that happened. You hope you did the right thing, and reason that the spirit must have had some reason to look so fondly upon you. Maybe another night, you can come back and learn more. You'll bring the amulet with you.
For now, it's about time you got back to the pumpkin patch. After that, you'll be long ready to finally head home.
